Bet
by Leah A. Gemcity
Summary: "Even the  smiles  you do not see are especially reserved for you."


**Super fast author's note: No matter what happens in the season finale, I'm going to continue writing Zabby. I don't care if they kill anyone, I will forever exist in this NCIS universe in which my dream team is alive and well, okay? I've completely separated myself from reality. Hush. **

**Also, I want to thank EVERYONE for reviewing. Every time I log on and there's new reviews, I get all smiley and feel like writing. Now go enjoy the story! **

* * *

><p>"Five dollars says Tony mentions it first."<p>

Ziva shut the passenger door of Abby's hearse behind her, moving around the vehicle's front to meet the Goth on the other side.

"Five dollars, hmm?" the agent questioned noncommittally.

"Yep. Five dollars."

Abby was grinning, bright red lips spread in a smile, hands gesturing wildly. Ziva admired Abby's spunk. The scientist had experienced so much – the death of a best friend, the departure and return of her boss, being held hostage by a psychotic lab assistant – and yet, she never lost any of her childish exuberance. Ziva thought it was beautiful.

"I love it when you smile," Ziva thought aloud, and Abby grinned bashfully at her, unused to the agent expressing emotions so publicly. Empty parking garage or not, it was still less private than their apartment.

"I could say the same thing to you. But sometimes, I know it's selfish, but I like it better that you don't smile all the time. I feel like every single one I see is reserved, especially for me," Abby said.

"Even the ones you do not see are especially reserved for you," Ziva spoke quietly, inching closer to Abby.

Abby knew she should resist. She knew that this was a government building's parking lot. It was constantly under video surveillance and she had no doubt that at that very moment, someone was monitoring the feed closely. But something about Ziva always made Abby unable to resist. Especially when feelings were involved. In the time they had been together, they had certainly discussed feelings, but Ziva's public expression of them at that moment had Abby floored. She moved closer to Ziva and grasped the agent's hands in her own.

"Ziva, you're the best," she said lovingly, pecking the agent once on the lips (quickly) before leading her by the hand towards the parking garage elevators. Ziva followed her, laughing.

"So, is the bet still on? Because we're seven minutes late. Someone is going to notice. And comment. And I love you all to death, but Tony is a loudmouth so my money's on him," Abby said as the elevator car ascended.

"Alright. I accept your wager. May the best woman win," Ziva said with fake solemnity, shaking Abby's hand as the forensic scientist exited the elevator at her floor.

Sure enough, Ziva was the last agent to arrive, now nine minutes late. She set her bag on top of her desk, taking a seat in her chair casually. Gibbs caught her attention first, raising an eyebrow at her from across the room, but remaining characteristically silent. Ziva nodded once at him with a serious expression on her face. She wasn't exactly sure what she intended to signal to him with the gesture (an apology? a wordless explanation? a recap of the morning's events with Abby? No, definitely not that last one…) but whatever it was, the message was apparently received because Gibbs glanced back down at the paperwork he had been previously absorbed in. Without comment.

McGee risked a glance at Ziva as she was booting up her computer. He stared at her with wide eyes and Ziva could almost _see _the question forming in the boyish agent's mind. But, just as she unfortunately understood, it was unlike McGee to comment on anything that wasn't his business. Sure enough, the young agent pursed his lips, said, "Good morning, Ziva," and then returned to typing furiously on his keyboard.

Tony, who had previously been uncharacteristically _quiet_, turned his attention to Ziva. He was the picture of relaxation, hands resting behind his head, feet resting atop his desk. Ziva wondered why Gibbs hadn't said anything about that yet, but she was forced to abandon that train of thought when Tony grinned at her. She knew it was coming.

"So, Ziva, this must be a new record. _You. _Almost _ten minutes late?_" Tony's tone was playfully curious. Ziva could hear the serious question that lurked behind the joke but she chose to ignore it.

"It would appear so, yes," Ziva answered with a grin. She was not giving up so easily.

"Funny. Last time I was late, Bossman threatened to fire me if it happened again."

"That threat still stands, DiNozzo," Gibbs remarked from his desk, not even bothering to lift his head. Tony took his feet off the desk.

"So, what kept you this morning?" Tony asked.

A brief flash of a memory appeared behind Ziva's eyes. It was a portrait of tanned hands on pale skin, fingers stroking tattoos lovingly. It was a vision of bodies tangled in bed sheets, blissfully unaware of their surroundings. Blissfully unaware of the _time. _Ziva smiled a tiny smile.

"My alarm clock. It did not work so well this morning," Ziva commented. Tony didn't seem to notice her distracted tone of voice.

Later, in Abby's lab, she approached the Goth. Ziva had a crisp five dollar bill resting between her index and middle fingers. She waved her hand exaggeratedly before closing the distance between her and the scientist and slipping the bill into the lab coat's breast pocket, careful to let her hand linger, but for _only a second. _

Ziva turned back to Abby on her way out of the lab and smiled one of her specially reserved smiles.


End file.
